Debunking The “Sport” of Cricket.

After months of intensive research on the internet, Ralphie has finally been able to piece together the rules to this game, which are incomprehensible to anyone who is not British or Indian(and maybe one or two others). Imagine my surprise, ladies and gentlemen, when I found out that this sport of Cricket has in actuality nothing to do with Jimeny and only very little with his fiddle!

It involves a ball that is almost always thrown by a man(they’re a bit sexist) in the general direction of some sticks. These sticks symbolise a ship and the object is to sink the ship of the opposing team. You may be wondering why they don’t play this game on water, well that is because this game is so long-winded that thousands of years ago, when the game was first invented, most of the team-players drowned and so they moved it to a field! You see, one game can go on for centuries!! Balls and paddles are usually passed on from father to son.

In front of the ship stands a sailor, who was supposed to row the ship out of harms way, but these days he just waves a paddle about. Actually, the sailor is supposed to block the ball from hitting the ship with his body, but most are too scared and don’t bother. There are more men on the field and these are called extras. Most of the time they just ogle the chicks in the audience, but once in a great while they go for a jog to keep their muscles from cramping up.

The extras have lodged a complaint with the league of sailors and ball-throwers for not allowing them to bring tents and sleeping bags to the field, but the league is adamant in their denial. I ask myself, why ever not? They could at least provide them with some chairs and let them enjoy a pint of lager, while they’re sitting around there twiddling their thumbs! Or at the very least some parasols.

Nobody seems to remember these days what constitutes a win. The last time the captain of one ship thought he’d won, the umpire had slipped into a coma several days before, without anyone noticing and the captain was so angry he burned the sticks. England and India have been fighting over the ashes of this vessel ever since.

I read a curious report about Mister Jan Botha,, South Africa’s former prime minister, having captained England’s team. How in the blazes he managed that, I will never know! And there’s more! While he was captain he lost against Mozes Gandhi, who captained the India team, because Mr.Gandhi refused to play by the then rules… but beat them anyways.

There are also people, who actually come and watch these games. The spectator’s object is to see how long he can stay awake and their friends place bets on this. It’s no use betting on the game, because it never seems to end! Some pharmaceutical companies have bid on the rights to televise the game as a sure-fire cure against insomnia. Strange sport, isn’t it? So far this exiting report from Ralphie. Frankly, I’d rather spend a riveting evening watching a group of elderly ladies crochet…

In my twenties I used to be the only female player in an otherwise male team. Got my photo in the local paper. I particularly remember the excellent teas prepared by the wives and girlfriends of the other players. Thanks girls. It was great wearing the trousers and getting out of the kitchen for once😉